high heels in the city

 

draped over his back
the raven-black hair of the man                                                                                               sitting on the stair
behind the pubs and the clubs- the city on a June night.
and so, the carver who carves just that-
a raven.
Intrigued, I kneel.
Hello.
dark eyes smile.
cigarettes and chocolate,
we share this city-summer-breeze.
handing me the raven, he asks
Will you think of me when you see the Northern Lights?

P1180667

 

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